The Record in the Heart

 

“The Record in the Heart”

The light once burned through me, pure and clean,

Then vanished—left me raw, unseen.

The echo carved its name inside,

A scar of love that will not hide.

I reached for Him with trembling hand,

He pulled away—so I could stand.

For vessels form when lights withdraw,

The pain itself becomes the law.

Each record whispers, “Try again,”

Each fall reveals the heart of man.

The sweetness gone, the hunger stays,

And drives my soul through endless days.

The first look crowned me with delight,

The second stripped me bare at night.

From what He took, the vessel grew—

An emptiness both sharp and true.

So now I live on holy ache,

A shattered heart for Heaven’s sake.

I learn to read what tears have signed—

The Reshimo etched in heart and mind.

Until at last the light will see,

A mirror shining back at Thee.

The broken record starts to sing—

“I’m nothing, yet I hold everything.”

The Rope and the Heart

“The Rope and the Heart” 

I reached for light with hands of clay,

But grabbed for self along the way.

The rope You threw I failed to keep,

It burned my palms, I fell too deep.

You gave me Torah—fire and thread,

To stitch the soul the ego bled.

Each Mitzva done for love, not gain,

Becomes the cure for all my pain.

I was a limb cut from Your chest,

Beating alone, without the rest.

But when I give, the pulse returns,

And every wound inside me burns.

To serve my Rav, to love my friend,

That’s where the walls begin to bend.

Their greatness feeds the flame in me,

Till “I” dissolves in unity.

I shrink below, they rise above,

And crush my pride with holy love.

In multitude, the King is crowned,

His glory shines where hearts are bound.

Bestowal kills what pride defends,

Yet lifts me higher when self ends.

The rope is fire, the climb is pain,

But each scar sings—He lives again.

So take me, Lord, and tear apart,

This will of stone that guards my heart.

Make all my giving burn and start—

Till I am You, and You my heart.